Eyes are the windows to the soul But no one's home. The lights are off, The curtains drawn. And nothing's there but my own reflection.
I wish that you would cry To prove that you're alive.
So cold, Do you even have a soul?
But you just turn away And tears refuse to fall. There's no one there at all.
Your eyes, Cold emeralds that they are, Betray nothing of your feelings. And do you feel anything? Are you truly empty?
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This is actually partly about me. I hate that I can't (or don't) show emotion.
Scarlet Lace · Wed Jan 03, 2007 @ 06:41pm · 0 Comments |